A Knock on the Door
by Lady Salazar
Summary: Ron and Slytherin have a conversation. Why Voldemort is a madman, why Death Eaters act like animals, why Hermione would make a scary dark witch, why Harry makes a good one, and why curiosity is a bad thing when Harry's your best friend. SFFPverse oneshot.


**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter is Not Mine.

**Author's Note**: This story takes place in the universe of one of my other oneshots, called _Steps Far From Paradise_, so if you haven't read it you're probably going to be confused. The concepts can arguably be applied to canon, however, so if you are good at suspending disbelief, read right on ahead. For readers of SFFP, this 'shot would fall sometime during year six, so it's several months after SFFP ends.

**Additional Note on Ron**: Readers may consider him OOC in this piece. Keep in mind this is SFFP!Ron, he is not nearly as simple as Harry may think he is, and that this Ron has had over a year of exposure to a dark wizard and around half that with a dark witch for a best friend.

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**_A Knock on the Door_**

Knock, knock.

Ron lets his hand fall from the office door and winces, half-hoping that Slytherin's not in and won't answer. It's not likely – whenever Slytherin's gone, Harry's gone with him, and she was in Gryffindor Tower when he left the common room, playing chess with Ginny. No, he's here, and Ron swallows when he hears the too-silky voice say to come in.

Slytherin is marking essays when Ron walks in, but when he looks up his brow arches ever-so-slightly in the expression Harry translates to surprise/confusion/curiosity and he puts down his quill to focus more attention on the boy in front of him. Ron stifles the un-Gryffindor urge to run far away. His best friend is living proof of how very dangerous this wizard is… but he really wants to know.

"Is there something you need, Mr. Weasley?" Slytherin asks, tone nearly inscrutable.

Ron knows he's far from skilled at reading people, but he's better than Hermione thinks. It has something to do was chess, he thinks, because he understands people best when they aren't wearing their emotions on their sleeves. When they're practicably stoic. Slytherin is like this. And Slytherin is curious; he wonders what Ron wants and wonders how he can use it to his advantage.

"I've been watching you and Harry," Ron starts awkwardly. The dark wizard doesn't comment and his posture doesn't change. Bizarrely, this makes Ron relax a little, and his words come out smoother than they would have otherwise. "I know you're a dark wizard. I know Harry's becoming a dark witch. But both of you seem… well, you both seem sane. Stable." Harry has her slippery moments now and then, but she is nowhere near as bad as the stories made a Falling wizard or witch out to be. And Ron has never seen Slytherin in a fit. Given the wizard uses dark magic like Ron breathes air it is unbelievable.

A corner of Slytherin's mouth lifts in an amused half-smile, and Ron thinks belatedly that implying that the very dangerous dark wizard in front of him should logically be insane might have been smooth but certainly hadn't been smart. But he isn't in danger, judging by the expression – Harry says the half-smile is usually genuine, while the full smile is something to be terrified of.

"Is there some reason we should not be stable, Mr. Weasley?"

For a second Ron blinks and doesn't know how to reply. Dark magic eats the mind. It's as simple as that. It's common knowledge, common _sense_ to every magical family smart enough not to get caught up in it. Wizarding children are raised on the tale of The Wizard's Hairy Heart, on Death Comes at Midnight, and on the secret horror stories every wizarding family has, of relatives that have fallen prey to the lure of the dark arts and gone insane.

While it's true most battle magic has roots in lesser dark magic, there is a _reason_ the greater dark arts are illegal.

Ron opens his mouth to try and tell Slytherin this, because the world today is not the world a thousand years ago, but he's clueless where to start. How do you tell a dark wizard how his art carries an inherent evil?

Slytherin is a mind-reader, though, according to Harry. Ron believes her now, because he doesn't have to speak for the wizard to know everything that's running through his mind.

"Have you ever wondered, Mr. Weasley," Slytherin says, "why I never attempted to sponsor a class on dark magic, rather than satisfy myself with Defense Against the Dark Arts?" There is a new look in the wizard's grey eyes now, and Ron recognizes it as curiosity in himself. It's frightening to contemplate, but like any Gryffindor, he ignores it.

"Well, no, not really," Ron mumbles. "We always assumed the other Founders wouldn't let you." In retrospect he finds this silly. Hufflepuff was renowned for her tolerance, Ravenclaw probably never turned down any form of knowledge, and Gryffindor… well, Gryffindor was acknowledged as one of the most devastating duelers to ever live, in addition to being Salazar Slytherin's bloody best friend.

Arch brow. Ron feels heat turning his ears red.

Slytherin continues without a comment. "The truth is that teaching dark magic as a class is simply not feasible," he says. "Every witch and wizard takes to dark magic differently, and that variance is nothing so simplistic as a family predilection or wand preference. Miss Potter has a talent few can match and long exposure to dark magic. Combined with her temper… she can be volatile at times, can she not?" Ron winces. "Your other friend, Miss Granger, on the other hand, would be infinitely worse. She is more than willing to attain by virtue of hard work what others are gifted with, and she is unflagging in her beliefs. This would resort in a 'Fall' much steeper than Miss Potter's, one which none could turn her back from. After all, Miss Granger is accustomed to being more intelligent than her fellows."

By the time Slytherin finishes, Ron is cringing. He tries to imagine Hermione as a dark witch and realizes with a nasty lurch that the wizard's words make sense. Harry's volatile, but she always has been. Hermione, though, is bull-headedly stubborn. Ron tries to tell her to leave the bloody house elves alone, but she refuses to accept that they are happy as they are. Add dark magic to that…

"But that can't be all of it," Ron argues finally. He thinks of the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters are famous because they are insane. They are feared because they are the proof the wizarding world didn't need to realize dark magic was bad. He thinks of You Know Who, Tom Riddle, the spirit in a diary with 'strange likenesses' to Harry, insane enough by sixteen to slaughter his father's family and frame his mother's family for the crime. Insane enough now that captured Death Eaters are always found with Nerve Repair Potions in their pockets because their Dark Lord occasionally flips out and tortures them for no apparent reason.

Slytherin nods – approvingly. It's unnerving, because Ron really does not want a dark wizard to approve of him. Slytherin approves of Harry, after all, and the peculiarities of that relationship are something he tries hard not to think about. "It isn't. Had Miss Potter chosen to experiment with dark magic on her own, most likely she too would have become unstable."

Ron stares at Slytherin and says nothing, because that makes no sense to him whatsoever considering what the dark wizard has already said. Ron wants to say he's bonkers and contradicting himself, but there's something to be said for the respect a healthy fear of someone brings.

"Tom Riddle never studied dark magic under a master," Slytherin says. He's half-smiling again, clearly amused. Ron wonders if it's healthy for dark wizards to find him amusing. "Miss Potter currently is."

It still doesn't make sense, so Ron stops to think about it. Like the stupidity of the other Founders reining Slytherin in, it was obvious. Without the master to rein the student in, it's almost a certainty that the student will trip up somewhere. With dark magic, one single trip-up is too many.

"And the Death Eaters?" he asks faintly.

"A master cannot teach that which as a student he never learned."

It isn't that simple either, Ron realizes. Harry knows You Know Who like Fred knows George, and she talks sometimes when she's feeling defensive, when accusing Gryffindor eyes grow too numerous. The Death Eaters are like pets to him, she explained once. He trains them to do tricks, and when they perform well they learn more tricks, and they adore him because just a whisper of a caress puts them on top of the world. He also trains them to know that when their tricks fail, they fail, and more importantly they fail him. Death Eaters fear failure more than death.

He stands up suddenly, nearly knocking his chair over. Ron isn't sure when he sat down, but it's not important as he mutters a 'thank you' to the dark wizard for answering his questions and turns to leave.

Slytherin's voice stops him from bolting. "It is no trouble," he says, and then he adds something that makes Ron shiver. "Should your curiosity strike again, Mr. Weasley, you are welcome to come and speak with me."

Ron nods, and then he nearly tears the door off its hinges in his hurry to get out. He doesn't see Slytherin's smile widen a little further, but he doesn't need to. Weasleys are nothing if not curious – that's why his father is obsessed with Muggle things and how Ginny got ensnared by the diary. Ron's best friend is a mostly stable dark witch and a deadly dueler, and he already wishes he knew how she did it.

Suddenly Ron feels sick. He half wishes he never went to that office. The other half is glad, because everything makes so much more sense now and the nagging worry that Harry will keep toeing the line until she loses all balance is quieter. He has Slytherin to thank for this, and that's frightening as well.

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Feedback appreciated!

-Lady Salazar


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